


Yesterday's Favorite

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Episode Related, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-06-26
Updated: 2001-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-10 16:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11130168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Stan is betrayed by someone he thought was a friend.and maybe more.





	Yesterday's Favorite

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Yesterday's Favorite

## Yesterday's Favorite

by d.c.

Author's Website: 

Disclaimer: Alliance abuses them, I love them to death.

Author's Notes: I'm writing a book. It will probably never be finished. In the meantime, here's this.

Story Notes: I can't remember all the spoilers I use, so beware!

* * *

"Yesterday's Favorite"  
by d.c. 

"Yesterday's favorite. Don't you hate it?" _ Talk Talk 

It was time to get up, even though he hadn't really slept the night before. There was a strong wind blowing forcefully against his bedroom window. The only other sound which could be heard was creating a slight, oddly rhythmic tapping against the glass. The faintest amount of air seeped in through the panes, making the object do a tiny dance in the early morning light. It had been hand crafted with loving patience and honest devotion. But not for him. It was the dream catcher. 

He rolled over in bed to look at the item in question. The sky was grey, the leaves were falling and he could tell it was raining. It was autumn already. There was such morbid beauty in the leaves of this season, the brilliant death singing in gold, brown and red, the colors of the Earth. The beautiful sight was framed by the woven circle donned with the feathers of an eagle. Sighing, he wondered why the Mountie would think he would consider it an honor to own such an item. It was a blatant symbol of what was keeping them apart and while it cleansed the negative nightly images of childhood trauma, the dream catcher had become to him a barrier, a salt_in_the_wound reminder. It was a strainer, separating them from one another. Kowalski would think a macabre joke was being pulled on him, if it wasn't for the total innocence Fraser exuded while giving him the gift. That it was indeed meant as a token of true friendship and brotherly "love". Therefore, he decided to keep and display it. 

It was Monday. What a way to start not only the day, but the entire week. Ray Kowalski had managed to keep his depression at bay, but now he could no longer avoid it. It was time to confront the Mountie. It was remarkable how much Fraser could procrastinate when it came to affairs of the heart. But then again, Ben was dealing with losing him seemingly well, sealing that supposed hole in his life and soul quite quickly for someone who just a short time ago was pining for him... _Him_ , not the man he was portraying. Ray Vecchio had returned from Las Vegas and it was time for the blond Detective to follow through with his transfer and get on with his life. Which meant leaving behind everything that came with this job. 

* _Why the Hell did he have to come back so fucking early?!_ * the blond Detective silently inquired, although the answer was common knowledge. 

The Italian's identity had been revealed only a few months into his undercover stint with the mob. Still, he'd managed to get enough information to bust at least a few in the crime organization he'd infiltrated. This left the blue_eyed cop being kicked out of the life he was just getting to know. He'd already put in a transfer to another precinct, especially when he saw Fraser fawning over the Italian like they were long lost brothers or something. He began to get ready for the day, having showered the night before. It wouldn't take long since his needs were simple and his usual T_shirt and jeans would do. A stray thought of Vecchio decked out in full Armani style floated through his mind. 

* _It probably takes him an hour just to get dressed._ * he snorted. 

He once believed he knew what it took to make friends, to aquire associates and have them reciprocate accordingly. Make sure they care, show them that you do as well. Protect and honor one another. Share, trust and be loyal. Give and forgive... Ha! What irony! Now, he wasn't so sure anymore. He didn't know what he was doing wrong. What could he have done differently to ensure Fraser's devotion? Why had things fallen apart so fast? 

Truthfully, what difference did it make? What was he going to do? _Demand_ Fraser's friendship? Of course not. Declare Vecchio an enemy, a 'him or me' attitude? Well, he _knew_ where that would leave him. Even if the Canadian somehow determined Kowalski to worth his time, it would be a constant question to him _ how long would this last? What would he do if Fraser turned away from him again? What if he couldn't take being second fiddle and finaly punched Vecchio? Oh yeah, that would go over _great_. 

Looking in the mirror now, raking a comb through his hair, he tried to ignore the churning in his stomach. It was hard to tell who he was most angry at. Fraser had practically dropped him like a dead otter once Vecchio returned, yet somehow the Mountie genuinely believed they were still good friends. But the younger Detective could not let go of the cancerous envy, the jealousy he harbored for the Italian for having Fraser _ having him in every respect. 

He began to think how used he felt, even if Fraser hadn't meant to wring out his heart once he was done with him. Kowalski had done what he believed was best at the time, helping a friend who was deeply depressed over the absence of a soulmate. Being with the Mountie was a bit difficult at first, getting used to his Canadian ways and methods. Eventually, the smaller man came to look forward to his time with the attractive Constable, seeing there was more to him than stiff logic and quirky crime solving techniques. 

"And this is what I get for it." he bitterly said. "Forget the fact _I_ was the one that was there for you, forget the fact _I_ was the one who helped get you through this, forget the fact _I_ am the one who's being punished for doing what's right." 

He should've seen it coming, but he confessed he didn't want to admit it. He'd shared the spotlight of Ben's attentions with that female bounty hunter, as well as the Inspector and, of course, the plain truth Fraser practically joined himself at the hip with the young Detective just a short time after Vecchio left. The Mountie sometimes appeared as loyal as his options. 

And the blue_eyed cop was no fool. He'd seen immediately that Fraser was falling for him. What he hadn't expected was to fall right along with him. Maybe it was the complete lack of chance anything real would happen that fueled the attraction or the fact the Mountie is so damned irresistible to just about everyone. What commenced afterward was weeks and weeks of open torment between the two. Fraser would _not_ betray Vecchio, would _not_ be physically intimate with his new "love". But they did come to love one another. _That_ he was sure of. Just as with Vecchio, all one had to do was look at the hurdles they'd accomplished, the intimacy transpired between them and the words of endearment they'd shared, to see how close they'd become. 

He couldn't even tell anyone about his present situation. After sanitizing the truth, he'd tried to confide in a few he trusted about his predicament, only to be chastised for the effort. He clenched his teeth together, remembering how Frannie called him spoiled for not thinking of what Fraser was going through and why didn't he consider how her _real_ brother felt and didn't he realize the pure, noble Mountie was damned near beyond reproach and why was he being so...so... _selfish_!? Kowalski quickly learned airing his disappointment invited indignation and berating. How easy it was for those not being fucked over to cast judgement! Or claim they understood or that it wasn't all that bad. Idiots. 

The ride to the Consulate was uneventful and he shielded his head from the rain as best he could with his jacket, removing it once he'd entered the building. It was that moment did he think of his planning to make sure he did not run into Turnbull, who had the day off. Guilty, his stomach did a flip_flop at the scheming to avoid his present part_time lover at a time like this. He bounded up the steps to Fraser's office. After knocking, he was greeted with a warm request to enter. Fraser was at his desk, hunched over several files and a cup of tea. Their eyes met and Fraser stood, frozen on the spot, but then looked down at his cup. 

"Ray." He stated, his tone bland. 

The Detective took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He tried to relax, but could see that wasn't going to happen. He nervously ran his hand through his hair. 

"Look," he started, desperate to get it over with, "I know that things have changed, all right? Vecchio's back and I know that I'm the third wheel here." 

Fraser still said nothing. The blond cop took it as a sign to continue. 

"I've put in for a transfer." 

"I know." Fraser stated, his eyes still searching the cup in his hands. 

"I just thought it was best, you know?" 

"I understand, Ray." 

Kowalski swallowed tightly, a dry clenching in his throat. He tried to hold back the grief that was boiling just under the surface. He craved to say what was wrong, but a force just as powerful prevented it. When the Constable said nothing more, Ray felt a rush of panic. He was incensed at the passive manner Fraser was letting this happen, but at the same time the Detective understood. It was just like the Mountie to remain devoted to the one he loved first. It occurred to him if he didn't say it now, he might never get the chance, which was even more unsettling than walking away from the man before him. He found himself talking, the words spilling out of their own accord. 

"Then why are you doing this? Why are you telling me to shove off?!" 

"Ray, please..." 

"No, I'm gonna say this, so you might as well listen! What about all those times we spent together with you gushing how much you cared for me? _Why_ did you tell me how you felt if there was no chance of us ever getting together? And how can you just dismiss me from your life? Am I that easy to forget?!" 

"Of course not!" 

"Then... _why_?! 

It was cutting, numbingly painful, to expose himself so plainly, to lay it on the line as such, to reveal what he'd tried to deny since he walked into the gorgeous Canadian's life. Hell, he'd gone to Turnbull to release some of that tension, telling himself it was just hormones, that he really didn't _love_ his best friend that way, to close his eyes and think it was Fraser above him, making him feel that bliss that nearly made him pass out. It was all bullshit. It was never going to happen. He loved Fraser and wanted to be with him more than ever. The Mountie looked like he was on the verge of breaking himself, but remained steady. During their entire acquaintance, Kowalski had been only mildly successful in penetrating that fortress and the opportunity to see it collapse was fading fast. 

"Because...I love him." Fraser weakly stated. 

Ray rolled his eyes and laughed a bit. "You told me that, too." 

"I'm sorry, Ray. But I made a promise." 

"And you didn't to me? I seem to remember something from you about being `best friends for all time.'" 

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Ray, I swear." 

Kowalski closed his eyes, seeing how useless this was. As he opened them, he whispered, "But I'm the one who has to learn how to be alone again." 

Fraser stared blankly at his soon to be ex_best friend. 

"Look, I see where your coming from, I really do, Fraser. _But_ , I won't take this kind of betrayal, not from anybody. You had your chance, so don't expect for you, me and Vecchio to be some kind of three_manned, crime_fighting team. I can put up with a lot but...I can't work around you...and not have you. Can you understand that?" 

After considering this, the Mountie nodded, visibly miserable. "Yes, I do understand. Good luck to you, Ray." 

"Fine. Goodbye then, Fraser." 

That was it. It was over and time to get the Hell out of there. His hand was on the door and he was leaving, when a silver streak of hope forced him to turn around, the words coming faster than light. "Frase, I just need to know one thing, okay? If it were possible, I mean, if things had been different...do you think, I mean, would you have...?" 

To his shock, he was interrupted. 

"Yes." The Constable stated solemnly, the conviction unwavering. The man in red serge faced the stunned young man, blue boring into blue. "In a nanosecond. You know that." Fraser whispered. 

A drawn out, excruciating moment passed between them and the tension in the room became palpable. The Detective saw where this was leading, his pulse and breathing kicking up several notches at the look of abandon Fraser was giving him. His body felt tingly, as if Fraser's eyes alone were touching him. Voices in the distance could be heard, but neither of them took notice. It wasn't until a gentle voice was speaking in his ear did Ray realize there were others in the room with them. Interrupted by the Inspector, Turnbull and others barging their way into Fraser's office, their gaze did not break even when Meg addressed them both, then let her eyes nail Fraser to the wall. 

Finally, as if it took everything in him, Kowalski tore his eyes away, followed by Fraser doing the same. Ray found himself yearning to sit down he was so drained. The conversation of the people around him was filtering in, but was all fuzzy. Looking into Thatcher's irritated expression, and the presence of Turnbull directly next to him...and he found he wanted out of there _now_. 

"I gotta' go." He snapped, turning to leave. 

The abrasive footsteps echoed throughout the Consulate. 

"Well." The Inspector said knowingly. "Looks like it's time for priorities to be put in order. Gentlemen, shall we begin the meeting?" 

* * *

End


End file.
